


Flute

by ncfan



Series: Early Years in Beleriand [9]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen, Music
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-24
Updated: 2014-03-24
Packaged: 2018-01-16 21:05:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1361764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ncfan/pseuds/ncfan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Idril becomes acquainted with Ecthelion's flute-playing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flute

Itarillë had always loved music. She knew nothing of how to play musical instruments—her parents had not yet begun to teach her (or arrange for her to be taught) when they left Aman, and since she and the rest of the Exiles had reached Beleriand, there had been far more pressing matters to concern themselves with than her education. Itarillë knew nothing of how to make music, but she loved the sound, loved the way it seemed almost to be alive. It was something she rarely heard anymore, in the camp they had set up by the shores of Lake Mithrim.

Her father and grandfather could not watch her. Nolofinwë was usually too busy meeting with the local Mithrim Sindar, and Turukáno was usually helping him or seeing to arrangements elsewhere in the camp. Itarillë was usually left to her aunt, but Irissë was leading a hunting party right now, so Itarillë had been left to her own devices.

She heard music.

It was, unmistakably, the sound of a flute being played.

Itarillë heard the sweet sound and was surprised at how much it made her spirits lift. It really had been so long since she had last heard _music_ , something that was more than someone simply breaking into song over a supper of stew and whatever plants could be found in the forest. The notes of the flute, drifting on the wind as they were, put her in mind of days long past in Tirion, when they visited her great-grandfather's court and the music made by the minstrels echoed through the cavernous chambers.

Well, it was only natural that she would go seek out the flute-player.

Neither did it take her too long to find him. Itarillë saw Ektelion, one of the lords of her father's following sitting on an open patch of grass, his legs crossed beneath him as he played his flute. He'd drawn quite a crowd as well. There were Noldorin children gathered around him (not many; nearly all of them had died on the Grinding Ice), as well as some Mithrim children (the children of those Mithrim Sindar who were visiting the camp and helping the Noldor grow accustomed to life in Beleriand). None of the Noldorin children were Itarillë's age, but she did recognize some of her playmates among the Mithrim. Lo and behold, there were even some adults starting to gather, mesmerized by Ektelion's flute playing after going so long without anything of the kind.

Itarillë took a seat among the throng, propped her chin up on her fists, and let the sweet, low notes fill up her ears.

**Author's Note:**

> Itarillë—Idril  
> Nolofinwë—Fingolfin  
> Turukáno—Turgon  
> Irissë—Aredhel  
> Ektelion—Ecthelion


End file.
